


Full Circle

by Melusine6619



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ardor in August, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Romance, Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine6619/pseuds/Melusine6619
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Valinor three Elves discover that their bond flows much deeper than friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Meleth for the 2009 Ardor in August fic exchange.
> 
> Story elements = Love, desire, happy ending, Valinor. It would be nice if they were friends before realizing they couldn't live without one another.
> 
> does_not_want = Not n/c, rape, bdsm, torture.

The marketplace of Alqualondë was always bustling, but no more so than this day, the height of the spring season. In spite of this Legolas and Gimli had no trouble finding their way through the crowds. After all, they were an odd looking pair–a tall, comely Elf alongside a short, ill-visaged Dwarf, and while many were now accustomed to the sight, they still evoked a sense of amazement in others. Most simply moved aside to watch the pair pass, and not a few paused to admire the golden haired one, who seemed oblivious to all of the stares as he intently scanned the various merchants’ stalls. 

“Don’t see why you had to drag me along,” Gimli grumbled. But there was very little he would not do for his Elven friend, so it was not said with any real conviction, but with the easy banter of one who liked to needle the other now and again. 

“You have an eye for good workmanship,” Legolas explained for the third time that morning. “I trust your judgment.”

“It would help if I knew what you were looking for,” Gimli huffed. They had been browsing for the better part of an hour, and though he would never admit it, he was growing tired.

“I wish I knew as well. But I will know when I see it,” Legolas replied calmly, though he too was beginning to wonder if he would find anything suitable for the brethren’s rapidly approaching Begetting Day. “I hope.” 

Gimli sauntered up to a booth and began inspecting the wares on display. His eyes alighted on a pair of finely crafted, intricately-wrought silver rings. He turned to Legolas, beckoning him triumphantly with his find. 

“What about these? Why, they’re almost Dwarvish in craftsmanship.”

Legolas stepped over to see and felt his face flame with embarrassment. He glanced from the items in Gimli’s outstretched palm to the shopkeeper, whose expression was hovering somewhere between amusement and horror, then to the Dwarf, who was eyeing Legolas hopefully, eager to be done with this market expedition.

“Aye, they are fine indeed, Gimli, but most inappropriate as gifts for Elladan and Elrohir.”

“What do you mean by that?” Gimli asked, curious.

Legolas studiously ignored the merchant, not wanting to know what the other Elf was thinking. “They are betrothal rings,” he said dryly. 

“Oh, well, then. . . .” Gimli hastily set the rings down, scratching his beard, his own face turning red. “Best not get them.”

“Yes,” Legolas agreed. “Best not.”

They hurried away to another stall where Legolas settled at last on a pair of ornate but serviceable daggers. He paid quickly, too discomfited to haggle the price, which was fair enough, he supposed. Storing the wrapped packages securely inside his cloak, he at last agreed that it was time to find a meal, and the two friends made their way down the street as quickly as possible.

****

A few days later Gimli departed for his own home and the following day Legolas set out for Lord Elrond’s abode. It had been many months since he had seen Elladan and Elrohir, and he was eager to reconnect with his two oldest and dearest friends. The day was warm and mild, and with no imminent threats and nothing but his horse for company, Legolas’ mind began to wander, and he found himself thinking of the incident in the marketplace with somewhat more mirth than he had at the time.

Gimli had meant well, of course, and Legolas was very glad for his help . . . but betrothal rings! He sniggered to himself as he pictured the brethren’s reaction to him presenting them each with one. Why, they would not be able to stop laughing for days, and he would never hear the end of it, that was certain. On the other hand, it would have been a great jest, something they would readily appreciate. Betrothal rings! 

Legolas shook his head, his smile giving way to laughter as he urged his horse into a gallop.

****

Elrohir sauntered into the kitchens of his father’s house and looked about. The usual calm of the large room was now replaced by hectic activity as the cooks busily prepared treats for the upcoming celebration and its requisite visitors. Elrohir approached a table and poked his finger into a bowlful of batter, earning himself a glare from the harried Elf maiden who was ladling it into pans for baking. 

“Melwen, have you prepared the honey cakes? You know they’re Legolas’ favorite.”

“Yes, Master Elrohir, just as I told your brother only this morning. In fact I’ve made extra, as you can see.” She indicated the batch of treats cooling on a table near one of the windows.

“You’re a dear, Melwen,” Elrohir told her. “And the venison? You’re certain we have plenty?”

The cook refrained from sighing. “You know we do, my Lord, as you and your brother provided it.”

“Yes, of course. And the wine–?”

“Yes, all of it has been seen to, my Lord. Just as it was yesterday,” she replied.

Elrohir nodded. “Good. Thank you.” 

He hurried out, missing the cook’s exasperated expression as he departed. Satisfied for now that all was in readiness there, he went in search of Lindir to make certain that there would be appropriate music for the general entertainment (Legolas enjoyed song, after all) and for the Begetting Day festivities that would shortly take place.

Meanwhile in the family wing of the house, as Legolas had long since ceased being lodged in the guest quarters, Elladan was likewise engaged in ensuring that all was in readiness for their friend’s arrival. 

“Are there enough bath oils?”

“I dare say there are, young Master Elladan,” the chamber maid replied. 

“And cloths?”

“For both washing and drying. There are also fresh linens on the bed and candles aplenty should he need them,” Dureth added before Elladan could ask. 

“Thank you, Dureth.” 

“Will there be anything else, my Lord?”

“No, that’s fine,” Elladan nodded, glancing around the room one last time. “Fine.”

He left quickly, wondering with some distraction whether or not there were enough honey cakes prepared . . . 

****

Legolas arrived two days later at his friends’ home, which had been located in a small vale in the Pelóri, not far from the city of Tirion. Each time he approached this new valley it reminded him of Imladris, which was perhaps why Lord Elrond had chosen this location in which to settle. It gave a sense of familiarity to what was for most of its inhabitants, a new land. Legolas nudged his horse forward eagerly. 

Elladan and Elrohir awaited him in the courtyard, just as they had done throughout the long years of their friendship. They exchanged smiles when the faint sound of horse hooves reached their ears. 

“At last,” they both whispered, moving forward quickly as Legolas came into view.

Elladan stopped in his tracks, his smile frozen into place, his eyes wide, and his heart thudding as rapidly as the hooves of Legolas’ horse. He had never really noticed before how comely Legolas was and now it hit him with the same force as the fall of a Dwarvish axe. The sudden awareness sent a sharp wave of longing through him that left Elladan both shaken and confused, and for long moments he stood immobile. It was only when Elrohir turned and called his name that Elladan tore himself from his trance and hurried forward after his brother to greet their friend. 

Legolas barely had time to dismount before he was surrounded by two pairs of strong arms and drawn into an embrace. It was the same as countless times before, the same way he greeted the brethren whenever they visited him. But this time there was a subtle change in the usual comfortable feelings of camaraderie as he caught their scents of pine, sun, and the faintest hint of herbs, sending a brief shiver through his frame. Perhaps he had missed them more than he thought.

Near identical faces smiled at him in greeting as they drew back, their gray eyes sparkling with warmth over straight noses and wide, laughing mouths. Today they had each plaited their dark hair in thick braids that fell down their backs. They were dressed simply, as Legolas was, in tunics and leggings, but theirs matched down to the cut and color. No doubt they were up to something, and Legolas knew that he would soon find out. He clasped their shoulders as he addressed each brother separately. 

“Elladan. It has been too long.”

“Indeed it has,” Elladan replied. “But are you certain I am Elladan?”

So that was it, Legolas thought. Of course. He should have guessed right away, as they were dressed identically. They often played such a game when their duties had kept them apart for many years, a sort of test to see how well he knew them. And he knew them well.

“As certain as I am that this is Elrohir,” Legolas replied with a smirk as he greeted the younger twin.

“How is it that you can always tell us apart?” Elrohir asked, shaking his head.

“You should have left your hair down. The shape of your ears is slightly different from Elladan’s. As is the pattern of the freckles upon your nose.”

“I do not have freckles,” Elrohir protested.

“You both do. ‘Tis quite interesting,” Legolas affirmed, studying the small spots with some fascination before tearing his eyes away when he realized that he was doing so. 

“Come. Father and Mother are eager to see you as well,” Elrohir added.

Legolas nodded. Elrond and Celebrian were as a second set of parents to him, and he looked forward to seeing them again. Out of long custom the twins fell to opposite sides of him as they moved toward the house, deep in conversation. After many months apart they had much to catch up on.

****

After a quiet dinner they gathered in Legolas’ room before the hearth, a second jug of wine opened before them. The first had long since been finished. Each of them was relaxed as they sat cross-legged and barefooted, goblets in hand. Conversation drifted from the important to the mundane and back again, until, for a time, they said nothing at all. 

“Do you recall that first summer we met, when we were but Elflings?” Elrohir asked at length.

“How could I forget?” Legolas replied. “The two of you treated me as if I were an Orc.”

“We never meant to hurt you,” Elladan offered, turning to look at his friend. 

“That wasn’t how it felt at the time,” Legolas commented wryly.

Elrohir snorted. “Yes, well, you did crush that basket of herbs we had spent all morning gathering for Father. We were already being punished for putting ink into Erestor’s wine goblet the night before.”

Legolas blushed in remembrance. “I only sought to gain your attention.” 

“You did, Legolas. You did,” Elladan told him, laughing. “And I daresay we learned a lesson that day that we would not soon forget.”

“That your father’s punishments are just as terrible as one would imagine?” Legolas asked, the memory of polishing weaponry for the space of an afternoon still fresh in his mind.

Elladan shook his head. “That you make a formidable opponent.”

“With lethal fists,” Elrohir added, rubbing a hand over his right eye.

Each of them paused, remembering in his own way how Legolas had jumped from an oak tree to land atop their morning’s work and the fisticuffs and punishment that had ensued. That night, filled with remorse and wanting another chance to win the brethren’s friendship, Legolas had begged his older sister, Canwen, who was training to be a healer, to help him find the herbs to replace those he had inadvertently destroyed. He had spent long hours with her searching by moonlight for the plants. The following morning he had delivered a fresh basket of herbs to an astonished Elladan. To Legolas’ surprise and joy, the brethren had forgiven him, and then befriended him. They had been close ever since, crowing over one another’s triumphs, succoring each other through loss.

It was Elladan who spoke again. “Still, we were too rough with you. ‘Twas unfair of both of us to fight you at once.”

“Only when you held me so that Elrohir could hit me.” Legolas shook his head and smiled. 

Elladan grinned. “We had to. You were a feisty one.”

“Did we ever apologize for that?” Elrohir whispered.

“Many times over,” Legolas responded, absently rubbing his left bicep, where an Orc arrow had once been embedded. He had received it when he had accompanied the twins on one of their hunts after their mother’s ordeal. They had tended that wound, along with those gained in other skirmishes elsewhere. “We have had some fine adventures.” 

“If you call being surrounded by spiders a fine adventure, then yes,” Elrohir snickered, thinking of another time during their youths. “Though we should have listened to your father’s edict about Elflings not going on patrol and not have snuck out to follow your older brother.”

“Yes, but we survived that, just the same,” Elladan smiled. “As we did many others encounters.”

“Including the time I had to help get you out of that bawdy house in Dale,” Legolas snickered. “Boasting that the two of you could service every wench in the place and they would pay you for the pleasure.” 

“We were drunk,” Elrohir excused.

“Drunk? If I recall, you could barely stand,” Legolas snorted again, a smile curving his lips.

“Well, we have had you to thank for our hides as often as you have us to thank for yours,” Elladan replied. “We make a fine team, do we not?”

“Indeed we do,” Legolas agreed, raising his goblet. “And we always shall. A toast, to friendship.”

“To friendship,” the brethren echoed softly.

Across from Legolas, Elrohir stared as his friend drained his goblet. He had been watching the light catch in Legolas’ hair all evening where it hung loose about his shoulders and enjoying the way the shadow softened the angles of his face. Now he watched as Legolas swallowed a mouthful of wine, his eyes riveting to his friend’s throat, while his own felt as if sand had suddenly lodged in it. Elrohir tore his gaze away and at last tipped his own goblet back with a frown. When had Legolas become so attractive?

****

Elrohir motioned Elladan into his room some time later and closed the door behind him. Elladan looked at him curiously as Elrohir stood there for some moments, a perplexed expression on his face. At last Elrohir moved, only to begin walking about the room in a distracted manner. Elladan waited patiently until Elrohir revealed what he was thinking so hard on. After several trips about the room, however, his twin had said nothing and Elladan was becoming dizzy from the combination of alcohol and Elrohir’s pacing. 

“What is it, brother?”

“Nothing.” Elrohir shook his head, then, “Have you marked how comely Legolas is? How fair of form?”

“Of course I have,” Elladan replied. “Are you saying you have not noticed until now?” 

“Nay, it is only that I never noted how blue his eyes, how golden his hair . . . Bah, that sounds positively mawkish, doesn’t it? Perhaps it was the tunic he wore this evening, or the wine or . . . I don’t know what, but Elladan, it is as if I first saw him.”

“I prefer the green and brown he wore earlier,” Elladan answered quietly.

“The green and brown? But that is his ordinary warrior’s garb.” Elrohir turned to him angrily. “You jest with me when I am in earnest. I have never looked upon him as I might a . . .”

“A lover?” Elladan finished for him. “Believe me, nor have I, but today, when he arrived, I saw him with new eyes, and what I saw . . . what I felt . . .”

Elrohir glanced at him sharply. Then a slow smile curved his lips, mirroring his brother’s exactly. “You desire him.”

Elladan nodded slowly and looked away. “Is it wrong of me?”

“No more than it is wrong of me,” Elrohir replied. “But . . .”

“He is our dearest friend.”

“And he would have to choose, which he would not.”

“If he chose. If he grew to desire either of us. We have been friends for so long he might not grow to see us as we have come to see him. ‘Tis hopeless,” Elladan sighed, shaking his head. 

Elrohir stared at his brother, frowning. It was unlike Elladan to admit defeat even before he had begun something. Nor was it usual for himself. But in this case, Elrohir could only agree with his twin. Legolas would only ever see them as friends, or if he had feelings for either he would keep them hidden rather than lose the regard of the other. 

It was hopeless indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning before the three-thousandth anniversary of the twins’ conception dawned bright and clear. Legolas rose and dressed quickly, and a few moments later he made his way into the main dining hall. He greeted Elrond and Celebrian and then turned a warm smile upon Elladan and Elrohir. Their answering smiles were slightly strained, and their gazes swept over him with an intensity that he found slightly unnerving. He paused and looked at them with a question in his eyes, but they shook their heads and seemed to relax. Perhaps they had something on their minds, he decided, and hoped he had done nothing to displease them.

Their odd behavior returned the moment he was settled and began to eat.

“Juice, Legolas?” Elladan offered.

Elrohir, not to be outdone, grabbed a nearby bowl. “A piece of fruit?”

Legolas glanced from one to the other, a small crease between his brows marring his features.

“Yes. To both. Please,” he answered quietly.

He began to eat, turning his thoughts to tomorrow’s celebration rather than trying to understand what mischief Elladan and Elrohir were engaging in this morning. Glancing as surreptitiously as possible at the two, he was flustered to find each of them looking quickly away. They were definitely planning something, which made him feel slightly hurt that they were not including him. 

“What would you like to do today, Legolas?” Elladan wondered. “A ride through the valley?”

“Or perhaps a swim?” Elrohir asked.

Legolas glanced toward the head of the table for help. Both the twins’ parents had bemused expressions on their faces, so they were clearly in the dark as well and would be no help. He turned his attention back to Elladan and Elrohir as he considered their offers.

“Perhaps Legolas would like to rest after his journey,” Celebrian put in quietly. 

“Thank you, my Lady. But I believe I would enjoy a swim,” Legolas replied. To the twins he added, “Let us ride to that pool we used last time I visited. I remember it as being quite pleasant”

“An excellent idea,” Elrohir gloated.

“We should take some food,” Elladan added. “Just some small refreshments to tide us over until later.”

He and Elrohir exchanged looks then began eating in earnest. Before Legolas had managed to eat half his meal they had quickly excused themselves and dashed in the direction of the kitchen. A few moments later the sounds of cupboards being banged open, muffled curses, and what sounded suspiciously like fists being laid to flesh reached his ears. Legolas glanced uncomfortably at his hosts and started to rise from his seat.

“Perhaps I should see . . .” 

He trailed off as the brethren, each holding an arm with one hand and a basket in the other reappeared. Ordinarily Legolas would have been lost to a fit of mirth at their expressions, but he had the feeling that whatever they were about was not funny in the least. With an apologetic glance at Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian, he followed the brothers from the hall and to the stables.

****

The pool was actually a rather large one, fed by a waterfall that tumbled over a rocky precipice. The water was clear and cool, and several trees grew along its banks. Legolas had loved the place right away when the brethren had brought him here the summer before, when he had been but a few short months arrived in the Blessed Realm. It was an easy distance away from Lord Elrond’s house by horseback, and the three friends reached it after only a short ride. 

As soon as they had seen to their horses, the twins quickly stripped down to loincloths and dove into the water as if they had been riding for most of the day and could not wait to cool off. Legolas shrugged and began removing his own clothes, wondering once again what Elladan and Elrohir were up to; perhaps, he thought, as he threw the last of his garments onto the pile, they were having a joke at his expense.

Elrohir stifled a groan as Legolas’ skin was bared. He bit his lip as muscles played beneath pale, smooth flesh and tried not to imagine how they would feel beneath his hands. It was impossible, of course, and the thought of touching Legolas was enough to cause him to harden. Beside him he heard Elladan’s breath hitch and knew him to be in similar straits. He tore his eyes away, gave Elladan a sharp, silent warning, and began to cut through the water toward the opposite shore just as Legolas finally dove in. 

They spent the first part of the morning racing from one side of the pool to the other until a short rest was suggested. Legolas swam back to the shore where the horses were tethered and drew himself up onto the bank. He dried himself quickly and pulled on his leggings before glancing back at Elladan and Elrohir.

“Come on you . . .”

The remainder of his words died in his throat. The twins had begun to wade out of the pool, pushing and shoving each other all the while, sunlight glistening on the streams of water slowly meandering down their torsos. Legolas’ eyes followed those drops, fascinated, as they moved lower. He glanced back up quickly, noticing as if for the first time how chiseled their features, how smoldering their eyes, how sensuous their lips. They were beautiful. Virile. His mouth went dry and his body reacted to the sight of them with an eagerness that left him shaking. Legolas drew in a sharp breath as realization hit. He wanted them. He wanted them both. Valar help him!

He turned away and rapidly drew on his tunic with shaky hands. He had always known they were comely, of course; one could not fail to notice the appreciative looks cast their way by Elves of both genders, nor the number of their conquests. But this sudden awareness of them was different. How could it be that he could desire them now, after so many years of friendship? What had changed? Understanding eluded him for now, so he concentrated on controlling his unruly body as their shadows fell near him. Whatever had caused this, he was determined that he at least not show it, lest he embarrass himself.

He busied himself pulling food from both baskets and spreading it upon a cloth. Too caught up in his own worries, he did not notice the brethren giving one another smug looks as they approached and dried themselves off. By the time Legolas turned back they were dressed, much to his relief, and he moved to join them, studiously avoiding their eyes as they all settled down to eat.

 

****

The following evening Legolas watched from the side as Elladan and Elrohir each led an elleth in an intricate dance. Indeed he found he could not take his eyes off either of them for very long. They moved with such grace--again, a fact he had known on one level, but had never acknowledged. He supposed it was his newfound desire that made him appreciate them in this new light. 

As Legolas studied them now he wondered why he had never considered taking either of them as a lover. He knew that they took males to bed as often as females, so that would not have been an issue. Perhaps it had just never occurred to him because of their longstanding friendship. Then that left the logical conclusion that it might just as easily not occur to either of the twins to consider him in that light either. The thought left him with a sense of loss, which caused him to frown in puzzlement; the idea of being rejected out of hand had never bothered him before. Why it did now he could not imagine. 

All of a sudden his frown deepened into a scowl, his hands clenching into fists as first one and then the other leaned close to their dance partners and spoke softly to them. Were they arranging trysts? He would not doubt it if they were; they had ended many past celebrations of their begetting in just such a manner. And so had he. But now jealousy clawed at his insides, squeezing his heart so that he thought he might cry out in pain as he pictured each of them with another. Instead he clamped his lips tightly and drew a deep steadying breath to calm himself. 

As if they sensed his simmering anger, the twins glanced his way. Legolas immediately smoothed his features, hoping they would not discern the falseness of his smile. But they knew him as well as he knew them and were not fooled. With frowns marring their features they made their way toward him. Panicked, Legolas whisked the first elleth that passed his way onto the floor. He did not notice the frowns turn into scowls of displeasure as he began to lead the maiden through the dance. 

“Why do you think he ran off?” Elladan wondered.

Elrohir shook his head. “I don’t know. Unless he has discovered our attraction to him and wishes to discourage it.”

They exchanged a look before turning to regard Legolas once again. He seemed intent on ignoring them, all his attention on the maiden he led about. Their scowls deepened.

“Surely not. Do you really think he has and now would scorn us?”

“I don’t know,” Elrohir repeated. His gaze turned fierce as Legolas laughed at something the elleth had said to him and leaned close to reply to her. “Do you think he will bed her?” 

“If he does ‘tis none of our concern,” Elladan responded, his own voice harsh. 

“Yet you would be as angry as I would be.”

Elladan winced and glanced at his twin. “Angrier.” 

But neither of them understood why that was so.

****

Legolas bid good night to his hosts and retreated to his chamber as soon as courtesy allowed. The open window drew him and he stared out into the night, his thoughts swirling, his heart beating fast. He had barely reconciled himself to his desire for not one, but both of them, and now this new knowledge sang deep inside himself. What he felt was more than lust–it was need, physical yes, but it was also much more. It flooded his heart, his soul. With a jolt, he realized that he was in love with them both as well. 

And that left him more than a little dismayed. That he should love one of them was remarkable enough; after all their years of friendship he had not thought there could be more to his feelings. But to love them both . . . It was impossible. Surely he must have some deeper regard for one than the other? 

And yet . . . how could he place one above the other in his affections? They were so similar few could tell them apart, but so unlike each other in so many ways as well. Elladan was a fine leader, though he had a mischievous streak in him as well, while Elrohir was gentle and of a more serious bent. He had always been close to both of them, had always felt most complete when he was with the two of them. If he was with only one he longed for the other to join them. Was it his inability to do without either’s friendship that had led to his need for them both now?

But surely he must choose between them. He could not be with the two of them as much as he wanted them both. The thought caused his heart to wrench. Worse yet he could not decide between them, try as he might. How was it possible to choose one form of perfection over another? 

He stayed there for long hours, staring at the horizon, listening to his heart, begging it for answers. Its response was the same no matter how many times he searched--it refused to decide between Elladan and Elrohir. At last Legolas ceased trying to urge his heart to choose and hearkened to its wisdom. 

But other questions now filled his mind, daunting ones that kept him from sleep until just before dawn. Would Elladan and Elrohir accept his love for them both? 

And was he brave enough to find out? 

****

As it turned out, Legolas found he lacked the courage to share his feelings with the brethren, at least for the present. In fact he took to spending as little time alone with them as he could and hoped Elladan and Elrohir would not notice his avoidance of them. As his stay drew near to its close he found reason not to ride to the pool with them, though the temperature grew warmer by the day. He ceased his evening walks in the gardens when the twins repeatedly sought him out for conversation, and only slipped out into the greenery when he felt he could do so without drawing their attention.

Elladan and Elrohir had noticed Legolas’ odd behavior toward them, but made no issue of it for several days. Though it vexed them no end, they were willing to bide their time until Legolas returned to his old self and fully embraced their friendship once more. Now, however, with but three days left before Legolas would return to his own home, and with no end in sight of his reticence toward them, they decided that enough was enough. If he was troubled, they would do what they could to help him. If they had earned his anger then they would do their best to set things right. They knocked on his door, and when he beckoned them, reluctantly it seemed, to enter, they did so with narrowed gazes. 

Legolas immediately lowered his own and backed away a step. 

“Why have you been so distant, Legolas?” Elladan asked quietly.

Legolas started at the abruptness of the question. He could not tell them of his feelings, not yet. What if Elladan and Elrohir rejected him? He had tasted of their aloofness towards him when they had first met, and while it had hurt then, it would be a harsher thing to know now. Running headlong toward it held no appeal to him.

“What is wrong?” Elrohir pressed when Legolas did not answer. “Have we done anything to offend you?”

“Nay,” Legolas denied. “Please do not mistake my silence for aught being amiss. It is only that . . .”

“It is only what?” Elladan pressed.

But Legolas said no more, leaving the twins to form their own conclusions. Confusion passed between the brethren that went unnoticed by the archer. Their silent communication was swift, with each in complete agreement with the other. They did not like Legolas withholding a part of himself from them. At all.

“Something *has* happened,” Elrohir insisted, moving to stand to the left of Legolas. “Will you not tell us so that we may ease your burden?”

“I do not know how to speak of it,” Legolas whispered, refusing to meet that penetrating gaze he knew so well, the one that could so easily read him and discern his secrets. 

Elladan walked over to them and peered closely into Legolas’ face. “You have ever been forthright with us, as long as we have known you. Will you hide from us now?”

Legolas closed his eyes and clenched his fists, drawing a deep breath before answering. “Forgive me, but I do not wish to do damage to our friendship. You are both far too important to me. I could not bear losing you.”

“What matter could cause such turmoil and fear of losing our regard?” Elladan asked. 

Legolas glanced from one to the other as he considered whether to tell them or not. They had known each other for nearly three millennia. They were as brothers to him. He trusted them both, as he knew they trusted him. But how did one tell his dearest friends that he ached to share his body with them? That he was in love with them? 

“I cannot tell,” Legolas whispered. “Not yet.” 

Their faces hardened at his seeming rejection and they drew away from him.

“Very well,” Elrohir said, his voice tight. He strode toward the door, Elladan following him. “When you feel that we are once again worthy of you, you know where to find us.”

****

They retreated to Elladan’s chamber. Elrohir settled himself on a chair and stared morosely into the fireplace, arms resting on his knees. Elladan began to pace about the room.

“I cannot bear his shutting me out,” Elladan declared. He was fighting the urge to slam his fist into a wall because Legolas would not share whatever was troubling him. “How can you just sit there so calmly?”

“I’m trying to think. It’s much more productive at the moment than looking for something to hit.”

Elladan scowled. “Do you feel so little at his withdrawing from us?”

“You think I feel nothing?” Elrohir growled. “I feel his rejection keenly, as if he had wounded me through the heart.”

“I feel it as well,” Elladan whispered. He moved to kneel beside his twin, facing him. “What do you suppose it means?” 

Elrohir shook his head slowly. Then his eyes widened. “Do you think there is something more at work here than mere lust? Do you think, perhaps, we could both love him, as more than friends and brothers?”

“Love?”

“Think of it. All the years of our friendship, we were happiest, most complete, when he was with us.”

“Yes,” Elladan agreed, remembering. “But love?”

“We were jealous of his attentions to that maiden. We both feel this pull toward him. We both want him. I’ve seen the way you look at him; there is lust in your gaze, yes, but also longing and tenderness. As I know you see in mine when I look upon him.”

Elladan shook his head and began to walk about the room again. A lifetime of memories flitted through his mind along with more recent images and feelings. There was desire aplenty, but there was also the need to be with Legolas in order to be whole. The merest thought of never having that caused a fierce ache to swell in his chest. 

“You are right, as usual. I can fool myself no longer. I would not be content with merely bedding Legolas.” Elladan closed his eyes. “ ‘Tis no longer a simple matter of physical desire. I want him. All of him.”

“As do I,” Elrohir answered, his voice soft.

“ ‘Tis a fine quandary we find ourselves in. We both want him, yet one of us must be without.”

“Or both,” Elrohir sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He, too, rose and began to pace. 

“What do we do?” 

“I would court him,” Elrohir announced, pausing mid stride.

“And what if I wish to do so?” Elladan demanded.

“We cannot both court him,” Elrohir retorted.

“Exactly. And I am the eldest.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“I should have the right to woo Legolas first,” Elladan announced.

“Nonsense. What if he prefers me?”

“I will not forfeit my right as firstborn to you.”

“And I will not step aside merely because you are older than me. Besides, you’re only eldest by some moments, not years. And how do we know I wasn’t born first?”

“Do you doubt now Father’s word? And Mother’s?”

“ ‘Tis not it at all,” Elrohir huffed. “I simply do not see why I should defer to you in this case.”

“How do we settle this then?”

Elrohir thought, discarding one idea after another. At last he announced, “A competition. ‘Tis fair, as we are evenly matched.”

“Very well,” Elladan agreed. “What will be the rules?”

“Three competitions, one prize. Whoever wins two of the three matches will win the right to court our fair friend, provided he also beats Legolas, of course.”

“Those are high stakes, Elrohir.”

“Yes, but Legolas is a prize worth winning, is he not?” 

Outside in the corridor Legolas stood quietly, his eyes narrowed as he listened to the argument. Jealousy at the twins’ wish to court someone rapidly turned to ire as he learned of their plan. So the brethren considered him a prize, did they? Footsteps approached the door, and he slipped away into the shadows, his mind whirling, his intention of taking a walk in the garden forgotten. 

A prize, he fumed. Someone to be courted, seduced. Not that he minded the seducing part, but he wanted more. Far more. He wanted to bind with them both and they wanted a mere bed treat. Wait . . . He wanted to bind with them? For the second time his footsteps faltered as he realized that was exactly what he wanted, to bind his heart and soul with theirs. 

Was such a thing possible? Would Elladan and Elrohir be amenable if it were? There was one way to find out. They had mentioned a competition. What if he set the matches and won? He smiled. Yes, he would go along with their little scheme, and perhaps claim a prize of his own.


	3. Chapter 3

At breakfast the next morning, when Elladan and Elrohir casually asked how he would like to spend the day, Legolas was prepared. He looked from one to the other of them, keeping his face carefully blank.

“It has been some time since we tested our skills at archery against one another. What say you to a little challenge?”

“Archery?” Elladan repeated, his eyebrows rising.

Elrohir glanced from Legolas to his brother. “A challenge?”

“Yes,” Legolas confirmed. “You have been practicing, have you not?”

“Yes, of course,” Elrohir replied. 

“Well then, let us be at it.” Legolas excused himself quickly, afraid that he might reveal that he knew of their plans if he stayed a moment longer. As it was by the time he had left the room he was smirking.

Elladan and Elrohir followed more slowly. “Archery?” Elladan grumbled. “He cannot be serious.”

“What does it matter? He’s given us an opening–.”

“In which to humiliate ourselves.”

“Don’t worry. It’s only one contest,” Elrohir reminded him.

By the time they reached the lists Legolas was already there. He turned to them with a smile. “I wondered if you would show up.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Elrohir declared, ignoring Elladan’s scowl. 

“I am glad to hear it,” Legolas replied, drawing an arrow and nocking it. “Now then . . . shall we?”

****

Half an hour later Legolas congratulated them both. “Your aim is still very good.”

Elladan scowled again. Of course, Legolas’ aim had been better; he had won easily. He told himself that it was only one contest, after all, that there were two more. But that meant that he or Elrohir had to win the next two–and it had better not be Elrohir. 

“Why don’t we ride to the pool?” he asked suddenly. “We can race if you like.”

“Yes, let’s race,”Elrohir agreed quickly, his own thoughts running in the same direction as his brother’s. With the stipulation that Elladan had better not win, of course. 

Legolas smiled. “A good idea.” 

They hurried to the stable for their horses. The twins threw on their mounts’ reins as quickly as possible, while Legolas leapt on his own mare’s back and took off, his fists loosely clutching her mane. He laughed to himself when the sounds of their curses reached him. Twice he slowed enough for them to gain on him, then he sped up again and left them behind. By the time they reached the pool Legolas had dismounted and was letting his horse drink. He watched their approach, admiring their comeliness, though by now their faces were marred by grimaces. 

“Good race,” he greeted them. “You nearly caught me back there.”

Both Elladan and Elrohir merely snorted. 

“Now then, will you two tell me what is going on? You have been behaving strangely since the morning after I arrived here.” Legolas asked. He knew their intent, but not their motives, and he hoped that there was more at work than what he had overheard. 

“You’re a fine one to ask for answers from us when you keep secrets of your own,” Elladan accused.

“I have my reasons,” Legolas defended himself.

“And so do we,” Elladan retorted, his anger rising.

“Well, then?” Legolas prompted.

“We may as well tell him, Elladan,” Elrohir put in when he saw Legolas’ eyes narrow threateningly. “The truth is, Legolas . . . I am in love with you.”

“And so am I,” Elladan added quietly. “We love you. We were competing to see who might court you, and whoever won would have that chance. Only you have beaten us both twice. A third contest seems foolish at this point.”

“I see,” Legolas whispered, completely flustered. They both loved him? That did put things into a new and rather pleasing light. He had not truly wanted to believe that they were playing games with him for their own amusement, and thankfully they had not disappointed his trust in them. And to think that they both returned his affection . . . it was far more than he could have hoped. 

“So you must choose,” Elrohir was saying.

“Choose?” Legolas asked.

“Choose one of us,” Elladan added, shooting a glance at Elrohir. “Whichever one you do not pick will understand.”

Legolas frowned. He had not expected this, not after all the agonizing he had gone through already. His heart plummeted. “You wish me to choose between the two of you?”

“Yes,” Elladan replied. Beside him Elrohir nodded, his arms crossed.

“I see,” Legolas said again, thinking rapidly. “But I cannot choose now. I will need time to think on this, and perhaps we should have one more contest, to allow me time to come to a decision.”

“What do you have in mind?” Elrohir wanted to know.

Legolas thought a moment. “After dinner you will track me. If you find me, you will have my answer. Agreed?”

The twins shared a look of mingled resignation and anticipation. “Agreed.” 

****

Elladan frowned thoughtfully as he and Elrohir stopped to peer at a tree. There were several strands of golden hair wrapped about one of the tiny stems. He glanced at Elrohir, an eyebrow raised. 

“What is he doing?”

“It’s almost as if he wants us to find him.”

Elladan could not disagree. Ordinarily, and especially in the growing dark, Legolas would have been impossible to track. But he had been leaving signs for them to follow this night--a piece of his tunic, cut, not torn, a faint boot print in the soft dirt, and now this. Elladan unwrapped the silky strands, bunched them up, and brought them to his face. He glanced at Elrohir, who was eyeing him, a jealous look on his face. Handing the hair over to his brother, Elladan turned in the direction of the house. 

“I think you’re right. He wants to be found. The question is . . .”

“What is he up to?” they both whispered.

****

In his chamber, Legolas paced about nervously. He had long since bathed and changed, and tried to relax, but his anxiety had not allowed him to wait patiently. He had no doubt that they would find him; he had left them signs a child could follow. No, what had his gut churning was how they would react. They had said they loved him. Did they love him enough to share him? Or would they think him selfish for wanting them both? Legolas frowned. Was he being selfish? 

He was shaken from his thoughts by a knock upon his door. Opening it a crack he saw Elladan standing there. At last. He pulled the door open further and stepped back.

“Come in.”

Elladan and Elrohir stared. Legolas was clad in loose sleep pants and a robe that he had left hanging open, revealing his sleekly muscled torso. 

“Is something amiss?” Legolas asked, his voice made husky by their appraisal of him.

“No,” Elladan replied.

“It is just . . . well, we did not expect to find you prepared for bed,” Elrohir added.

“Hmm. I am not. Yet, in any case,” Legolas smirked. He turned and moved to the fireplace, a smile on his lips as he glanced back at them. “Join me.”

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, questions in their eyes. After a moment they shrugged and followed Legolas, accepting the goblets of wine he offered before dropping gracefully down on either side of him.

“I thought some refreshment would be in order,” Legolas announced, following Elladan’s eyes to the basket set nearby. “We have bread, cheese, and fruit.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Elrohir declared.

No one said anything as they made short work of the food Legolas had procured. But at last, when they had eaten the last morsel and the last dreg of wine had been drained, Elladan turned to Legolas.

“Have you come to a decision?” he asked. 

Legolas leaned back and eyed first Elladan and then Elrohir. “I have. But first, I believe you said the winner of two out of three contests gained a prize?”

Elladan blushed. “You knew?”

“How?” Elrohir wondered weakly.

“I overheard you when you made your wager,” Legolas explained. “I must say I could not believe you would stoop to such a thing.” 

“We did not mean to offend you,” Elrohir rushed to assure him. 

“I am no longer offended,” Legolas answered, shaking his head. “But I will not be a wager and I will not be the cause of discord between you.” 

“So you have chosen neither of us then,” Elrohir said quietly, swallowing hard at the feeling of loss that rose within him. He glanced at Elladan, who was likewise ashen-faced.

Legolas shook his head. “I did not say that.”

“But . . . then you have made a choice. Which of us--?”

“Answer me one question,” Legolas interrupted. “You will accept my choice, one way or the other?”

The brothers nodded solemnly.

“Very well,” Legolas answered. “I want you both.” 

“Both of us? What are you saying? That is not a decision at all!” Elrohir exclaimed once he had gotten over his surprise.

Legolas rose to his feet and moved away from them. He eyed his two dearest friends and shook his head. “And you ask me to make a choice that I cannot. You wish me to choose between you, but I could just as easily decide which arm to sever from my body. I would not have one of you without the other.”

Elrohir followed Legolas and caught him by the chin, staring deeply into his eyes. “What are you saying?

“Why?” Elladan demanded, rising to his feet and moving to where the other two stood.

Legolas drew a shaky breath and glanced from one to the other. “I love you. I love you both. I tried to choose, from the moment I knew my true feelings, but it was impossible. I need you both in my life.”

“It seems we have come to where we must choose, brother,” Elladan murmured, looking to Elrohir, who nodded solemnly.

Legolas paled slightly. “I understand, of course. Take all the time you need.”

The brethren exchanged another long look. Legolas knew that they were carrying on a private conversation, and for once he did not know whether to be glad or not that he could not hear. He turned away and moved toward the window so that he would not appear to be hurrying or influencing them in any way. When they drew near and to either side of him he closed his eyes, unable to bear seeing their disgust should they not accept what he offered. 

“If our own choice is to share you or not have you at all, then there really is nothing to think over,” Elrohir told him.

“Neither of us wish to be without you, Legolas,” Elladan added. “We have always needed you, almost from the moment we met, to feel complete.”

Legolas’ breath left him in a rush, and he slowly turned around, relief shining in his eyes. “Are you certain?” he asked. “You will not mind sharing me?”

The brethren caught his hands, which were still fisted, and slowly raised them, urging the fingers to relax before each twined his own with them. “We are certain,” they assured him.

“Friends, lovers, however you want us, we will not ask you to choose again,” Elladan whispered.

“Thank you,” Legolas whispered.

The three of them eyed each other again for several minutes. Skilled in the ways of the flesh though they all were, the novelty of this situation left them slightly nervous and unsure of how to proceed. Finally Legolas could bear the silence and inaction no longer. 

“Stay with me. I want to kiss you, touch you. I want to be with you. I need you both, so much.”

His words broke the dam of restraint. Barely had they left his mouth when Elladan leaned in and brushed firm lips gently over his. A low moan escaped him, allowing Elladan to deepen the kiss, and Legolas felt his lover tremble (or perhaps it was himself) as their tongues dueled lazily together. They drew apart slowly as the need for air overtook them, and Legolas sighed at the loss of contact. He turned to Elrohir, not waiting for that brother to initiate, but captured his lips no less tenderly than his own had been. They parted just as reluctantly, with one last lingering dance of tongues, one last caress of lips.

“Have the two of you ever shared a lover?” 

Legolas let the question hang in the air as he leaned again toward Elladan for another kiss. This one was decidedly more demanding. Elladan pressed close, his arms moving around Legolas, his erection thick and hard against Legolas’ hips. Legolas gasped at the touch, the sound deepening into another low moan as Elrohir trapped him on his other side. 

“No, we have not,” Elrohir replied. He cupped Legolas jaw with gentle fingers, urging his attention back toward him. 

“I have never done anything like this either,” Legolas confessed shakily. Whatever else he had been about to say was swallowed up as Elrohir claimed his lips again.

“Good,” Elladan growled. “For you are ours.” 

Legolas’ excitement flared to new heights at the possessive tone in Elladan’s voice. “Yes. Yours,” he whispered. 

Elladan’s hand skirted downward from Legolas’ chest. It stopped short when it encountered another, and Elladan looked across at his brother, a silent signal passing between them. Together they cupped Legolas’ length through his sleep trousers. Elladan grinned when Legolas bucked into their hands with a muffled cry of pleasure. He sent his own lips on a quest from Legolas’ neck up to the point of his ear. His blood pounding in his own ears, Elladan slipped behind Legolas and tugged the robe free from his friend’s shoulders. He pulled Legolas’ hair aside and began to nip gently at his neck. His scent, and the feel of soft, warm skin over taut muscle inflamed Elladan’s senses, sharpening his desire. 

“I love you. I want you,” he breathed. 

Meanwhile Elrohir had moved directly in front of Legolas, lavishing him with hungry kisses. With an effort he tore his lips away from Legolas’ and began to blaze a path lower. His hands splayed over Legolas’ torso, mapping the muscles, noting the most sensitive places and memorizing them for later. For now he had one goal. He dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of Legolas’ trousers and looked up past his quivering abdomen and heaving chest and met Legolas’ eyes. In them were all the answers he needed.

He tugged Legolas’ pants down past his hips and to the floor and helped him step out of them. A ragged moan drew his attention back to Legolas, and he looked up to find Elladan’s hand now pleasuring their friend with firm, smooth strokes. Elrohir watched, fascinated by the sight. He had thought he might be embarrassed by this sharing of Legolas with his brother, but it was not so. It was even more arousing than he could have thought possible. Elrohir leaned close, and when Elladan’s fist slid back, he darted his tongue out to lick up the fluid leaking from the tip of Legolas’ cock. 

“You taste good,” he whispered, his gaze meeting Legolas’ own. He swiped his tongue across the slit again. “Delicious.” 

Elladan moved his hand completely away and let it travel up Legolas’ torso, while Elrohir drew Legolas further into his mouth and began to suckle ardently. Legolas gasped with pleasure at the dual onslaught. Love burned in his heart and desire seared its way through his body as Elladan’s powerful, sword-roughened hands tenderly caressed him and Elrohir’s skilled mouth pleasured him. This was how it truly felt to need, and to be desired in turn, he realized. All of his previous encounters had been but trifles compared to Elladan and Elrohir’s attentions. Deliciously trapped between them, Legolas could only rest his head on Elladan’s shoulders while the older twin’s hands slid over his skin and mobile lips played over his shoulders, the side of his neck, with his ear tips, and below, Elrohir brought him to the brink again and again.

It was too much. He would spill soon at this rate.

“Wait. Stop,” Legolas gasped. “You are both far too over-dressed for my liking.”

Elladan and Elrohir blinked and looked at each other. They certainly were. As quickly as they had at the pool, they stripped, throwing clothing and boots every which way. Legolas’ smile fell away as they finally stood nude before him. He had to touch them. Taste them. Dropping to his knees, he took Elrohir in his mouth while he reached for Elladan with his hand, closing his fist around the older twin’s member. Stroking and suckling them each in turn, he soon had them gasping with pleasure. 

“Gods, Legolas,” Elrohir groaned.

Elladan canted his hips forward encouragingly. “Don’t stop.”

But Legolas slipped his mouth away and looked up at them. “I need one of you inside me. Now,” he growled. 

Elladan drew Legolas up. “I think,” he said between another round of fevered kisses, “that is a very good idea.”

“Bed,” Legolas panted back, pulling them both along toward the big four-poster. 

Splayed upon it, they gazed at each other, their chests heaving. Legolas, sandwiched between Elladan and Elrohir, turned from one to the other, his hands and mouth exploring, his own body shuddering with need as two pairs of sword-callused hands moved over his own skin. 

“Do you have any . . .” Elrohir asked, caressing Legolas’ buttocks.

“On the table.” 

“Convenient,” Elladan noted. He turned his head and spied the bottle of bath oil; he passed it to Elrohir. “Admit it. You knew we could not deny you.”

“No. Hoped.”

Legolas’ hands busily roamed Elladan’s body, urging him to lie prone. Elrohir shifted with him, pulling the cap of the bottle off with his teeth. The sight of Legolas bent forward over Elladan was too much temptation for Elrohir. He bent forward and softly nipped Legolas’ taut buttocks, before soothing him with a gentle swipe of his tongue afterwards. At last Elrohir coated his fingers with oil and began make teasing passes at Legolas’ opening. Legolas groaned and pushed back insistently.

“Elrohir, please.” 

At last Elrohir’s finger breached Legolas, while at the same time Elladan pulled him down for a wanton kiss. The strokes were slow, thorough, and by the time Elrohir had added a second and third digit, Legolas was shaking with pleasure and need. It took every bit of his control to pull away. Legolas turned to Elrohir, his mouth seeking the younger twin’s, their tongues colliding for several moments while their hands slowly fisted one another’s shafts. Elladan watched intently, his hand gliding over his own length.

“Enough,” Elladan whispered, drawing Legolas’ attention back to himself. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, Legolas took the oil from Elrohir and let a good portion trickle into his palm before coating Elladan’s erection, stroking until Elladan was near incoherent as he thrust upwards into Legolas’ fist.

“Legolas . . . need you,” Elladan gasped.

Legolas took pity on him at last and positioned himself over Elladan’s cock and slowly lowered himself, holding still when he was fully impaled. In another moment he began to move, bliss rushing through him with each measured stroke. Elrohir shifted position, standing near and leaning close, claiming Legolas’ mouth hungrily while his hand moved to cover the archer’s shaft once more. 

“So beautiful,” Elrohir breathed against his ear.

Legolas moaned and snaked his own hand between them to grasp Elrohir’s length, his hand sliding in time with his own body’s motions. Elladan arched upward, driving into Legolas, wanting to hear more of those sounds, wanting to see his face contort with ecstasy. He glanced at his brother, and suddenly it occurred to him that he was being unfair, that Elrohir too should know the pleasure of being sheathed by Legolas. An idea quickly formed, and Elladan ceased his thrusts, one hand catching Legolas by the thigh.

“Hold,” Elladan whispered. 

He urged a puzzled Legolas off him and when the archer moved, Elladan slipped downward and took Legolas in his mouth for several moment before shifting up again to claim his lips. 

“I want you to take me,” he explained, as he pulled away. “And Elrohir, you get behind Legolas.”

Legolas and Elrohir nodded and moved to do as Elladan had suggested while Elladan shifted around and up on all fours. With shaky hands Legolas groped for the phial of oil and began preparing Elladan, peppering the warrior’s back with kisses as he slowly stretched him. He entered Elladan almost reverently, groaning in pleasure at the tight fit, fighting his body’s insistent clamor for movement once he was fully gloved. A moment later Elrohir pressed into him, sliding forward with a grunt. Legolas drew a deep breath to steady himself. Nothing had ever felt so right or so perfect as this.

“So good.”

Elladan twisted his head around to reply, but Legolas leaned forward and covered his lips with a tender ferocity that had them both gasping by the end. He turned, and his own mouth was claimed by Elrohir’s in the same way, followed by a slow, deep thrust into his passage. 

The movement caused Legolas to push further into Elladan, the older twin responding with a moan of bliss. Sighing with pleasure, Legolas eased backward to meet Elrohir’s next stroke. It took several more somewhat disjointed thrusts, but they quickly found a rhythm, with Legolas stroking into Elladan, then back onto Elrohir’s shaft, then forward again. It was not long before the sounds of their loving filled the air: gasps, moans, softly uttered words.

“ . . . There . . .Yes . . .”

“ . . . More . . .”

“Oh gods . . .” 

Their bodies soon glistened with perspiration, aiding the forward and backward motions, sending them hurtling toward completion. Legolas felt his control spiraling away and slipped his hand around Elladan, catching his shaft in a tight fist. A few strokes later he gave a harsh cry, his release spurting over Legolas’ hand. Legolas followed quickly, his own body tensing around Elrohir, and after a moment Elrohir groaned, threw his head back, bathing Legolas’ passage with his own seed.

They shuddered together, hands, caressing each other’s skin as they slowly regained their breaths.

“That was . . . I cannot even describe it,” Legolas panted.

“Beautiful,” Elladan offered

“Amazing,” Elrohir added. 

“Mmm, yes, and more,” Legolas agreed. 

Reluctantly they drew apart and collapsed onto the bed, a tangle of limbs, sable hair entwining with gold as Elladan and Elrohir flanked Legolas, sharing tender kisses until they grew sleepy.

“I love you. I love you both so much,” Legolas whispered.

Two voices, one on each side of him, responded in kind. “I love you, too.”

 

****

Epilogue 

Six months later . . . 

Legolas slipped quietly from the bed and moved to gaze out of a window. The moon was rising high over Eldamar, and he watched as it bathed all around and beneath it in its silvery glow. It was beautiful out, just as a night like this should be. He glanced down at his hand and smiled, thinking back on a day in the marketplace not so long ago when Gimli had helped him choose it and two more, one for Elrohir, the other for Elladan.

Legolas raised his eyes back to the horizon, happiness and wonderment rising within him. So much had changed in his life since he had arrived on these shores. Friendship had evolved into love, camaraderie into desire. And just hours ago they had strengthened their bonds even more. 

His smile broadened as he felt two pairs of arms slide around his waist, and two bare bodies press against him on either side. He leaned first toward Elladan, then toward Elrohir, sharing a kiss with each in turn.

“Did I wake you?”

“We missed you,” Elrohir chided gently.

“Come back to bed, meleth,” Elladan whispered. “We have much celebrating to do yet.” 

“Do we?” Legolas asked, his heart beginning to hammer in anticipation.

“Oh yes,” the brothers affirmed. 

Together they turned and moved back toward the bed, hands entwined, three silver bands gleaming in the moonlight. 

The End


End file.
